


The Time of Waiting

by DaughterOfKings



Category: The Shadow Campaigns - Django Wexler
Genre: Angst, Gen, Missing Scene, Nightmares, poor Marcus, post-The Price of Valor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfKings/pseuds/DaughterOfKings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raesinia and Janus have a conversation about Marcus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time of Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Hi, tiny fandom, I have written you a thing! 
> 
> 2) This is set between _The Price of Valor_ and _The Guns of Empire_. No spoilers for the latter, but reading it did inspire me to finally get this story written. I hope you like it!

Things happened slowly after Janus was named First Consul. Or so it seemed.

Raesinia knew that his officers were actually frantic, seeing to thousands of details in order to make the giant apparatus that was the Royal Army move. But the only work for her was infrequent: documents that needed signing, trivial matters that required her opinion, a handful of audiences with the bickering factions of the Deputies-General. It wasn’t enough to divert her attention from the looming continuation of the war.

As terrible as it was, she just wanted to get on with it.

“You could see how Colonel d’Ivoire is faring,” Sothe remarked, having apparently had enough of watching her queen pace around her suite for one day.

“He probably feels as useless as I do,” Raesinia mused. She’d learned quickly that, even when he was beaten down and out of his depth, Marcus was a man of action. It was one of the qualities she liked in him.

Sothe gave her a pointed look. “So be a sympathetic ear.” 

That, Raesinia decided, was something worth doing. She and Marcus had seen far too little of one another since the reclamation of the city; she’d assured herself that he was alive and would be well, but after that she’d stayed away. She couldn’t quite say now why she’d done so.

“Your Majesty?” Sothe prompted.

“Find me an appropriate gown to wear,” she said, “and arrange for a carriage.”

* * *

Raesinia was gladdened by the sight of so many people on the university grounds when she arrived. Someone had organized them into crews to gather and cart away rubble, and there was already fair bit of cleared land around the main building. The sudden, unexpected arrival of the queen had them abandoning their work and clamoring to greet her until she waved her hand to indicate they should go about their business. She waited, pretending as if she couldn’t see their stares or hear their questions, until Sothe took up a guard position outside the entrance to the makeshift hospital.

“Down the corridor and to the left,” Sothe said, reminding her- again- how long it had been since she’d last paid Marcus a visit.

Raesinia went inside, keeping a smile fixed on her face in response to the awkward bows, curtsies, and wide-eyed glances from everyone she happened to pass by. She was grateful that Marcus’ rank afforded him a bed in a private room, allowing her to escape the scrutiny. 

When she opened the door, however, she discovered that he was not alone. Janus was seated at a small writing desk he’d surely liberated from one of the classrooms, working while Marcus slept. When he saw Raesinia, he immediately dropped the papers he’d been examining, stood, and bowed low.

“Count Mieran,” Raesinia said softly.

“Your Majesty,” Janus answered, glancing quickly at Marcus to see that he had not awakened. “Forgive me, I did not realize you were here.”

Raesinia found that hard to believe after the commotion of her arrival, but she saw no point in saying so. Instead, she said, “I might have guessed you were here, however, from the efficiency of the work being done outside.”

Janus smiled in that brief way of his. “I merely offered the people some direction, Your Majesty. They came here seeking it, so it was a small thing to do.”

Raesinia tried to ignore the discomfort she felt when she considered that the people- her people- had not come to seek direction from their queen. Her own choices had led to that, and she could not have made others. “And what did you come here seeking?” she asked.

A touch of mischief lit up Janus’ gray eyes. “I confess,” he said, “that I am taking advantage of my officers’ reluctance to disturb my visits to the wounded. Left alone, I am able to devote my full attention to the work that needs it.” Then, before Raesinia could offer to leave, he added, “Of course, if my Queen wishes to keep me company, that is another matter entirely.”

Raesinia considered that for a moment, then seated herself in the chair on the opposite side of Marcus’ bed. “What is the work you're doing?” she asked, hoping that he’d speak freely and the details would be engaging.

“Orders,” he answered, picking up his pen to continue writing. “For the restructuring of Your Majesty’s army. I cannot ferret out every incompetent commander in a force so large, but I can minimize their capacity to do harm. We must never again have men- or women- in Vordanai blue pitted against each other for no better reason than that they were led by fools.”

Raesinia had to agree with that, of course, but she wondered if such moves would also place the men most loyal to Janus in way that would add to his already considerable power. They both knew that he didn’t need it, however, and could already take whatever he wanted. That he hadn’t done so was a mark in his favor, but the mysterious warning she’d received- _be wary_ \- wouldn’t leave her.

Marcus stirred, flinging an arm across the bed and mumbling something that sounded like a command. He tossed his head and spoke more loudly, “N-no... Get out...”

Raesinia resisted the urge to reach out and soothe him. She wasn’t sure she would be good at it anyhow. “He dreams of battles,” she said, mostly to herself.

“Of fire,” Janus corrected.

She waited for him to elaborate, but he only kept writing. It wasn’t until the silence stretched that he looked up and met her eyes, and it took considerable effort for her not to squirm beneath his calculating gaze.

“You know that, between us, we have taken everything that was left of his world,” he said. “What a pair we are.”

Raesinia wondered if he expected her to deny it, but how could she? She had thought it herself on more than one occasion since Janus had revealed why her father had sent him to Khandar. But for that, Marcus would have lived his whole life never knowing the truth of demons, and the Black Priests, and the Penitent Damned. 

And Vordan would have been lost.

“Do you regret it?” Raesinia asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Janus’ expression indicated that his estimation of her had risen with the question. “No, your Majesty,” he said simply. “Do you?”

Raesinia’s eyes strayed to Marcus, lying still and quiet once more, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

Janus didn’t smile, but he looked satisfied with that. “Spoken like a true queen,” he said.

Raesinia lifted her chin. “That, Count Mieran, is what I am.”


End file.
